A Brave New World
by beginningtogo
Summary: When wealthy socialite, Caroline, and blue-collar cop, Stefan, are thrown together, they must work together to survive. An AU all human zombie apocalypse Steroline story.
1. Chapter 1

Driving his cop car along a dirt track, Stefan Salvatore scrubbed an exhausted hand through his unruly hair; he had been driving for 12 hours straight, stopping only to relieve himself. He was alone and desperate. His left ankle was swollen and throbbing, the Tylenol he had taken hours ago having well and truly worn off. He thanked God that the car was an automatic. All of a sudden, a deer ran out in front of the car. His sluggish reflexes, dulled by fatigue, stopped him from hitting the animal, but the car careened out of control and piled into a tree. As the bonnet buckled, Stefan was thrown forward, halted by the seat belt that his law-abiding self had prudently fastened. Old habits die hard even in this brave new world.

He flopped back in the car seat, hands gripping the steering wheel and the hot tears started to fall. He wept for himself, for his friends and for his partner. He wept for his brother who he hadn't heard from in nearly six months and could be dead for all he knew. In the early weeks of the zombie apocalypse, the South End Boston PD had been at the sharp end of martial law. Each police force was tasked with erecting barricades to keep the human population on lock down and the zombie menace out, while the armed forces tackled hunting down and annihilating the undead. An area with an already high crime rate, there had been an explosion in looting. Stefan and his partner, Kai Parker, had generally let petty crimes slide, but racketeering, well that was something else. When their neighbourhood had been over run, the remaining police had retreated to the station. When the swarm over ran the station, only Stefan and Kai made it out taking with them as much weaponery and ammunition as they could carry. It had been touch and go, but they had escaped.

They had intended to head south on the I93; Stefan's plan had been to find his brother, Damon, a former cop who now worked as a security guard for a private Cape Cod marina. They soon realised that it would be back roads only and heading south at that particular juncture would be an atrocious idea. So, they headed west with no real plan, just survival and the search for somewhere to hole up away from the major conurbations. Twenty-two-year-old Kai had been the rookie that no one had wanted as a partner: he talked too much, laughed at his own jokes and had a reputation as a bit of a maverick. When the chief had summoned Stefan to his office, he had at least had the decency to deliver the news in an apologetic manner. Their partnership had been rocky at first, but that didn't stop Stefan missing the cheeky little shit who had made his life hell and the only thing worth living for in equal measures. The tears continued to roll at his latest loss. For the first time since this whole thing started, he felt helpless; Kai had been the last link to his humanity except for brother and as each day went past, the chances of seeing him again became vanishingly slimmer.

Stefan knew he shouldn't stop, but he had no idea how he could carry on. He hadn't seen a zombie since he and Kai had been attacked four days earlier. Considering the horror, they had already encountered, a group of five zombies should have been a doodle, a walk in the park. He could use the excuse that they were tired, had been taken by surprise, but in reality, it had been a moment of carelessness that had cost Kai his life. Stefan closed his eyes reliving the memories of his final moments - the look on his face as he first realised he had been bitten, his begging Stefan to put him out of his misery, his last words forgiving him for what he was about to do. Putting a bullet through his brain had been the single most horrifying thing that Stefan had done. He was spent, emotionally wrung out. This was it. If he died now, who would care? He lent his head gently against the steering wheel and passed out.

On paper, Caroline Forbes-Saltzman should not have survived a zombie apocalypse. A Princeton graduate in art history, she was usually found at lunch or organising functions for the charities of which she was a patron. She was married to Alaric who was a rising star in the law world and a future political hopeful. Caroline wanted for nothing, a spoilt socialite with a high-maintenance lifestyle. What people didn't know was that her father, Senator William Forbes, had expected his only heir to enjoy the same things as he did - hunting, shooting and fishing - and therefore Caroline had grown up to be an excellent shot who could skin a deer and gut a fish like a redneck. In addition, Bill had had the wit and foresight to know that President Trump's martial law strategy wasn't going to work against an unrelenting army of zombies. Early on, he had urged her to gather supplies and her mother and head up to their cabin in the woods with the promise that he would join her within a week. Her mother had refused to leave their plush home in their wealthy Massachusetts home town, so tearfully Caroline had gone alone.

As the weeks turned into months, Caroline was beginning to go stir crazy sequestered away in the cabin. Sure, she had food and a nearby stream supplied water for drinking and bathing. Solar panels provided her with electricity; there was even a back-up generator, along with a ham radio set up which in the early days had given her hope that others were alive. One by one her fellow radio enthusiasts had fallen silent until hers was the only remaining voice in the wilderness. She knew from the chatter that the entire government had been wiped out, her father likely among them. She doubted her mother had survived. Then there was Alaric who hadn't even sought her, just high-tailed it towards Martha's Vineyard where his family owned a summer house. For all she knew, the Saltzman clan could be sipping champagne on a zombie free island, but she doubted that. For someone whose personality usually shone with positivity, this apocalypse had caused her to doubt an awful lot.

Caroline had always been an early riser, so her morning hunting trips were no big deal. The early bird catches the bunny or deer or whatever. What did shock her was the Boston PD cop car just off the dirt track, wrapped around a tree. Fortunately, it was hidden enough to put off all, but the most persistent zombies. Whoever had driven it here must have been lost, probably disorientated, maybe injured and that could never lead anywhere good. Despite every instinct screaming at her to stay away, she crept silently up to the car and peeked in. A man either asleep, unconscious or dead was sat in the driver's side. She couldn't see his face, obscured by the car's steering wheel, unruly hair curling over his cheek. Gripping her pistol, her father's words echoed in her ears "strong stance, Caroline, relax your shoulders, breathe". She paused, hand on the car door, mentally steadying herself. Her finger squeezed the trigger, cocking the firearm, aiming it at the man's head. One final centring breath and she ripped the door open, prepared for the very worst.


	2. Chapter 2

Pre-apocalypse, Stefan had been the type of guy who enjoyed easing himself into the new day. King of the snooze button, he would luxuriate in his cocoon of blankets for as long as humanly possible. Having to snap awake, alert and ready to face a zombie attack, that really wasn't his favourite thing. So, waking up in an actual bed, wrapped in a soft, fluffy comforter, well, it felt like he had died and gone to heaven.

For a couple of seconds, not fully awake, he enjoyed the cosy feeling, before reality started to come into focus. First, there was the throb of his twisted right ankle, then the itchiness of his beard, lastly the uneasy feeling of having no idea where he was or how he had got here. Pulling himself to a seated position, he hissed as pain shot through both legs. He glanced down and realised that his manacled to the bed by his left ankle.

Panic rose in his throat, still disorientated, he had flashbacks - a woman with blond hair, her face familiar and yet not; stumbling painfully through a forest, branches tearing at his exposed skin; trying not to drink the water she offered too quickly and the inevitability of him throwing the whole lot back up. She obviously wanted him alive. Maybe the woman was a cannibal, maybe she wanted to keep him as a slave. Terrified, he started pulling at his ankle, desperately trying to free himself. His frantic movements caused him to send a glass clattering loudly across the wooden floor.

He froze.

He heard footsteps. His throat tightened. They got closer and stopped.

A firm knock, confident, yet polite against the bedroom door. Stefan kept quiet, even though he knew it was stupid to pretend he wasn't there.

The door swung open and into the room stepped the woman, blond hair tied back in a high ponytail, curls framing her face. Her body was swathed in the best Kevlar body armour money could buy. Pointing it at his head, she toted her pistol like a pro and left him in no doubt that she would shoot him on the spot if he did anything dumb. Stefan raised hands in surrender knowing he was completely fucked.

"Hey." She cut to the chase. "I made breakfast."

Without giving him a chance to answer, she edged backwards out of the room, gun still trained on him. A breakfast tray was gently pushed along the floor with a broom. She obviously didn't plan to come anywhere near him.

"Thanks, I guess. Any chance of….?" He gestured at his ankle.

"You should be able to reach." She replied dismissively. "Anyway, you could be dangerous."

"I'm not. I was a cop before all this."

"That's hardly a ringing endorsement." She scoffed.

"Well, okay. Look, I get this is awkward. Why don't you just let me go? I can be on my way, you can pretend I was never here."

"I doubt you'll get very far on that ankle and your car is totalled. How will you survive?" She seemed surprised by his request. "Is that what you want?"

Stefan was confused. She had made him breakfast, that was more than his dates normally got, yet she still had that damn gun pointed at him and it didn't seem like she was going to help him out here.

"I made some coffee if you want some." She cut across his thoughts. "How do you take it?"

"Please. Black with a little sugar." Perfunctory answer to a perfunctory question.

She retreated again and he gingerly swung his feet to the floor. The woman was right, he could reach. He placed the tray on the bed and surveyed the pancakes and orange juice dubiously. Maybe they were poisoned. Although if you were going to poison someone would you lay out their breakfast tray with a cute flowery jug of maple syrup? Tentatively he forked a small piece of pancake into his mouth. It was clearly from a packet, but it didn't smell or taste weird. A good sign, right? Slowly, he worked through his breakfast.

He must have been concentrating because he missed the woman's return. She skilfully slid his coffee cup across the floor, not spilling a drop. He picked it up cradling it in his hands and breathing in the evocative aroma of a decent cup of coffee, reminding him of night shifts run on caffeine and adrenaline. He closed his eyes, took a sip and gagged, spraying coffee all over himself.

*****

Caroline awoke on her couch after a fitful night's sleep of tossing and turning. Bringing a stranger back to the cabin felt like a stupid move. She could have shot him, given him deliverance from a fate worse than death. Something had intervened, call it loneliness, call it compassion, call it a complete lapse in judgement, but now she had an injured man chained up in her bedroom.

Lieutenant Stefan Salvatore, if his warrant card was to be believed.

Yes, she had swiped his wallet and yes, she had snooped. She needed to know who she was dealing with. Surely, that was a good enough reason to invade his privacy?

She picked up his wallet again running her fingers over the smooth buttery surface of the well-worn leather before tucking it in her pocket. She had been amused by some of the crap it held - a Blockbuster card, some pressed flowers, passport sized photos of Stefan and a striking couple, all three grinning like crazy. She turned her attention back to his ID. The handsome cop in the photo looked nothing like the yeti of a man passed out on her bed.

She felt bad keeping a gun trained on him while he ate his breakfast, he seemed harmless, but he was a cop and a little power particularly in circumstances like these could be a dangerous thing. While Caroline hadn't expected him to be an expert on Debrett's, nothing could have prepared her for him spraying his coffee all over himself.

"You okay?" She asked, cringing internally.

"I know who you are." He baldly stated.

She didn't respond, not really knowing what to say.

"You're Caroline Forbes, Bill Forbes' perfect daughter, always in the papers attending some charity do." Stefan smirked, with surprising amounts of sass for a man in his predicament. "Your dad paid for the precinct's Christmas party two years ago after that bar brawl; we really lived it up that year. Rumour has it you got into a fight with Klaus Mikaelson and your dad was desperate for it to go away." He punctuated the last part with mocking air quotes. "You're a scary lady, quite a shiner he had apparently, but that explains this cosy little set up. Bet you have 30 foot electric fences surrounding your own private compound. Buying your way out of the zombie apocalypse, wow."

Her eyes narrowed. "The Mikaelson incident was regrettable."

"No shit," He interrupted, irritating her even more.

"But he wouldn't stop hitting on my friend and then he got handsy and well, it's hardly my fault the guy doesn't know how to block. Yes, my dad had money and insider information, but that didn't really help him, did it?" Her voice thick with emotion, she paused getting herself under control before continuing. "Although, maybe if you learnt to keep your mouth shut, Lieutenant Salvatore, you might realise that you're reaping the benefits of his foresight right now." 

You could have heard a pin drop. The air temperature dropped a couple of degrees.

"I never told you my name." He accused.

Caroline reached into her pocket and tossed him his wallet. He caught it and quickly sifted through, a thankful sigh escaping when he realised the contents were intact. Giving her the cold shoulder, he turned back to his breakfast.

"Well, enjoy." She murmured, withdrawing, glad to be away from the strained atmosphere. What the hell had she done?

 **AN: Thank you to everyone who is following this dumb little story. The zombies are going to be incidental to the story for a bit as Steroline are stuck in the cabin until Stefan's ankle heals. I might write some dream sequences/flashbacks to weave them in a bit more, if people are interested. Don't worry, these two will get over their angst.**


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: I hope you enjoy the latest update. Please leave a review - it's really useful to know what works and what doesn't.**

 **For the reviewer that asked, Damon will definitely pop up later. I do love a bit of Salvatore brother bonding. However I am a Bamon shipper and therefore if he does have a romantic interest, it is likely to be Bonnie. That said this fic is primarily Steroline because they deserved so much better than they got in canon.**

When things got too much, Caroline's go-to cure-all was a hot bubble bath and a glass of Sauvignon Blanc. Both those things were in her past, so she went with her new favourite destressor - hunting bunnies. Over the months, she had got pretty handy with a crossbow, the added bonus of which was not having to deal with shot in the carcass.

Caroline's anger at being judged threatened to boil over. Having to concentrate however reined in her negative emotions and she channelled all her ill will towards Stefan into the firing of bolts at small furry animals.

She hated being put into a box. What was it about men always trying to do that?

Having bagged a couple of cotton tails, she decided to call it a day, checking her perimeters for breaches. Several zombies had got themselves tangled in the fence so she dispatched them with a specially sharpened pole. Musing on her new normal, desensitised to killing things because it was that or die herself, she wondered what the hell had made her overreact to Stefan's comments? Sure, he was cocky and annoying, but she had handled far worse.

She just knew that loneliness was eating her up and survival was no longer enough. A chippy blue collar cop type was never going to be the ideal companion, but he didn't seem violent. And she did have him chained up which was kind of shitty, now it was clear he wasn't going to kick the bucket.

He could be a serial killer, hiding in plain sight, masquerading as a cop.

Actually, at this point, wasn't everyone a serial killer?

…

After mulling over his predicament, Stefan came to the conclusion that it was futile to try anything until his ankle was at least starting to heal. That meant resting so when Caroline had left earlier, he decided to get comfortable and wait it out. He had obviously hit her where it hurt which had made him feel initially elated until the horror of what he had done settled in. Impulsiveness was more a Damon thing and it wasn't exactly the smartest idea when the butt of your jokes wielded a gun like she meant it.

She could have killed him, but she hadn't and he chose to believe that was a positive thing.

In addition, given that Caroline had survived this far, it was likely that this cabin was probably a zombie-free haven. He could use a bit of peace.

He decided to explore a bit and was surprised just how much range he had despite his shackles. The bedroom was admittedly small, but had an old-fashioned wash stand complete with a jug of water, towel and a brand-new toothbrush. He felt a whole lot better with a quick wash and brush up, although he hated the beard and was desperate for a shave. Oh well, can't be picky, he thought. He settled down to read the John Grisham novel he found on his night stand.

…

He must have dozed off because he woke to the smell of frying meat. Well frying and maybe a little burning. "Caroline!" He called out.

"Hey." She appeared at the door. "You okay?"

"I'm fine. Look, I'm really sorry about earlier. I didn't mean to be an asshole. And thanks for the food and the painkillers and the other stuff." He waved his hands to indicate all the little luxuries he had come to miss.

"Well, you were an asshole, but I will accept your apology, this time. And you're welcome, but I would have done it for anyone. I'm not some precious princess, you know."

"More like the dungeon mistress, I would say." He meant it as a jailer, but it definitely came out sounding a whole heap kinkier that he had hoped.

Her eyes narrowed at him. "I only kept you chained up because I thought you might die and it would be easier to deal with you when you changed."

"Oh. So, this isn't because you think I'm dangerous?"

"Look at you, I could take you out like that." She clicked her fingers to emphasise the point. "I'm an excellent shot and I nearly made the US Olympic fencing team." She blushed, realising she was boasting a little and reinforcing the wealthy stereotype he had casually painted her into. She needed this asshole to not fuck with her and by the cowed expression on his face, she was sure he wouldn't.

Stefan had been threatened by some nasty pieces of work in his past and still this girl frightened him a little. He got it though. In a world overrun with zombies, the scariest creatures were the humans fighting for survival. Resources were meagre and anarchy ruled. For someone who had been part of the establishment for such a long time, it was a bitter pill to swallow, speaking of which... "Understood, loud and clear. Is there any chance of some more Tylenol? My ankle is starting to throb again."

"You promise not to do anything dickish?"

"I promise."

She ducked out, returning with a glass of fresh chloriney water and some pills. She handed them to him and while he was busy taking them, she unlocked his ankle bracelet before backing away again into the other room. Stefan pulled himself to standing gripping onto the metal bed frame. He was fine as long as he had something to hold onto and managed to make it to the door, only slightly out of breath. Once at the doorway, he took in the rest of the cabin.

It was smaller than he had expected, the walls made from roughly hewn logs with cosy rugs and wall hangings to make the place look homelier. Caroline sat by a roaring log fire more suitable for heating the room than the frying she was undertaking. In the corner was a small kitchenette with a gas cooker, he wondered when her gas canisters had run out, and a large plastic container with a tap which held her drinking water, he assumed. Two leather couches and a leather chair with a footstool formed a nook by the fire. He needed to reach one of those, but that would involve letting go of the wall and hopping. It was easier to give that a try than admit he was stuck to his blonde companion.

Caroline nearly had a heart attack when she heard the thump of Stefan collapsing to the ground. He was either dumb or stubborn or both not to ask for help. Sighing, she put her pan clearly to one side and walked over tentatively to help him. "Stefan?"

"I'm okay. Can you help me up?"

Every synapse in her brain screamed caution at her, he could be planning to get her in close proximity to take advantage of her.

As if reading her mind, he looked up at her. "I'm not out to hurt you, Caroline. I know you don't know me and this world has gone to hell in a handcart. Let me earn your trust, starting now. Please can you help me up?" He begged, sincerity personified.

She bent down beside him, still feeling anxious. He threw an arm around her shoulder and she helped him up slipping her arm around his waist. He inhaled the scent of her hair woody and outdoorsy and felt ashamed that he probably didn't smell too fragrant. She guided him to the couch and gently eased him down grabbing him a couple of pillows to make himself comfortable. The loss of her warmth hit him straight away. He hadn't had close contact with anyone for months; Kai wasn't a touchy feely type. Stefan had grown up in a family of huggers for whom personal space was not a thing. He missed it, he missed human contact and he just wanted to touch Caroline again.

He pushed that thought aside as Caroline offered him a plate - unidentified brunt meat chunks with salad leaves. Having existed on whatever cans he could scavenge first from the police canteen then from various convenience stores, he was kind of amused that the first real meal he was about to eat looked worse than the canned offerings. He prayed silently that it wasn't human flesh and politely picked up a knife and fork, digging in.

Caroline was used to her terrible cooking. Embarrassed that she never learnt how, she quietly pretended that what she had offered up wasn't the grimmest thing ever. The rabbit was tough, burnt in places and undercooked in others. The leaves were tasteless, harvested from the overgrown garden planted sometime on the past. Maybe he had survived on something worse and this was like manna from heaven?

"This is rabbit, right?" He asked, his face way more expressive than was safe.

"Yes, there's plenty of them in the forest. Do you have an issue with eating Thumper?" Her voice was tighter than she expected.

"Only when he's cooked like this!" She shot him a look, so he tried to dig himself the hole he had got himself into before she shot him for real.

"Everyone's a critic!" She pouted momentarily before lapsing into fits of giggles.

To Stefan, her laugh was the cutest thing he heard in a while and so infectious, he caught himself chuckling along. It seemed to break the tension which had been festering all day. "Your butchery skills are second to none." He gently complimented her. "Rabbit's a lean meat though, better cooked on the bone or maybe in a stew. I can show you if you want. Earn my keep. What?" He exclaimed when she gave him a quizzical look. "Did you expect me to be some macho idiot who doesn't know one end of a saucepan from another? Who's judging now?" He added the last part with a teasing grin.

"Okay, okay. I bet you have secret Italian rabbit recipes passed down through the generations that you learnt from your grandmother and can't tell another living soul." She could barely keep the amusement from her voice.

"Well, how would you know about my Italian heritage, Ms. Snoopy McSnoopyson?"

"Point taken, I apologise." She jumped up and grabbed his wallet from the side handing it back to him. "I thought you might be a cop-slash-serial killer."

"And I thought you might be a cannibal, so I guess we're even."

"In that case, may I formally introduce myself? I'm Stefan, not a serial killer, unless you count zombies."

"I'm Caroline, not a cannibal, but definitely a bunny murderer."

He held out his hand which she shook with a smile and with that, they lapsed into a contented silence, broken only by the crackle of the fire.

...


	4. Chapter 4

Over the next few days, Stefan and Caroline settled into a routine of sorts. The anger that they both felt had dissipated and a polite civility defined their relationship. She found him a decent sized tree branch which they fashioned into staff to help him get around the cabin. Stefan had probed a bit about the gas situation and found there was a spare canister, she had just been too afraid to change it. Resisting the urge to be a patronising asshole, he helped her to change it and volunteered to be the one to spark up the cooker just in case of an explosion.

Sorting through the kitchen, he found a stash of dried and canned ingredients suitable for making a decent selection of tasty meals. He also set about checking out the vegetable patch to see what Caroline had rejected as weeds. He had to rest frequently his ankle still bruised and painful, but it was getting better. He resisted the urge to take any more of the painkillers she had given him unless things got really bad.

Dusk was approaching when Caroline returned that night carrying a large rucksack on her back. "Hey, Stefan, I brought you something."

"Hmmm. Let me guess, a bunny?"

"Well, yes, but this is just for you." She handed him the rucksack. He eagerly opened it; it was his belongings from the totalled cop car, well his and Kai's. Picking up his partner's beloved Nirvana t-shirt, Stefan was surprised to feel tears prick in his eyes, he quickly dashed them away so she wouldn't see.

"That kid!" Stefan murmured. "He wouldn't listen to any tunes made after 1994, said it was year music died, idiot."

Caroline didn't respond. In general, Stefan played his emotions close to his chest. He was obviously upset, he clearly didn't want to discuss it, but she couldn't help herself. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No."

"Correction. I think you need to talk about it. Stefan, please, what have you got to lose?"

"Nothing, I suppose." He mumbled, unconvinced.

He was being closed and defensive, but that didn't mean she was taking that as an answer. She quietly sat down on the floor crossed legged beside him. "Tell me." She whispered.

He kept his eyes closed, a single tear tracking down his face. She wanted to reach out and brush it away, but she didn't, just waited for him to speak.

"This place, the cabin. It doesn't feel real, like the outside world doesn't exist and for a while, I forgot what happened, all the awful things I saw. This just brought it all back." They sat in silence, neither knowing what to say. It was Stefan who made the first move, gently placing his hand on top of hers. "You did a good thing. Kai would have laughed at me for being so sentimental."

"Was he your... friend?"

"He was my partner, work partner." He clarified. "But yeah, we were friends too. He died. He got bitten and I shot him." He closed his eyes seeing Kai's naive trusting face. It nearly broke him again.

"I can't imagine shooting someone you love. It must have been..."

"Horrifying. Yes, it was."

She shuffled around on her bum until she was facing him, clasping both his hands in hers. "How about I help you go through the stuff? You just say 'mine' for things you want to keep; I'll take the rest away and hide it until you're ready." He nodded his agreement so she pulled away and started sorting through the items. They gradually fell into a natural rhythm, beginning to exchange small smiles as the bag emptied.

When they reached the bottom of the rucksack, Caroline pulled out a set of hair clippers, a grin on her face. "How about you let me cut your hair?"

"No."

"I'll take that as a maybe."

"It's a no."

"Still sounds like a maybe to me." She said teasingly. "Please, I have to look at you every day!"

Stefan smiled back. "Kai set up a barber shop in the men's locker room at the station. Said we all had to keep spruced for the day we vanquished the zombies. He thought we were heroes and it would be like VE day all over again. You know like, those black and white pictures of World War II GIs celebrating in the streets. I always thought it would be more like liberating Auschwitz."

"Wow, you're a real pessimist."

"I am." He acknowledged. "Doesn't mean I don't hate that I was right." He scrubbed his hand through his hair, not wanting to bring the mood down. "He still wasn't allowed anywhere near me with those!"

"So, you're a vain pessimist?"

"Yep, you can stick that on my grave stone." He was teasing her, but she suddenly looked serious.

"I want you to promise me something." She looked down hands fidgeting in her lap.

"What?" He replied dubiously.

"If I'm in the same situation, if I get scratched or bitten, you'll do the same for me."

"Caroline..." He gently took her hand, urging her to look up at him.

"Please. I just don't want to end up like that."

"You won't."

"But, I could."

"Well, you won't because I promise I won't let anything happen to you."

"You don't know me." Her head snapped up.

"No, you're right, but at this moment, you and I could be the only living people out there and well, you're not horrible."

"Gee, thanks."

"Plus, this is a sweet set up and I swear there's a good chance you would have died of food poisoning if I hadn't crashed my car."

Caroline's eyes widened at his cheeky presumption and she swotted at him playfully. He grabbed at her wrist to stop her, equally playfully, his fingers lingering unnecessarily on her fluttering pulse. His eyes burned with sincerity and yearning. "If that's what you want, I would do that for you. Would you be able to do the same for me?"

She swallowed, sensing the tension in the air, different to before. She needed it gone, it scared her a little as to where it might lead. She saw an out and went for it. "I would happily shoot in the head any day of the week, zombie bite or no zombie bite."

Stefan threw back his head and laughed. "Okay, Caroline. I promise not to ever piss you off."

...

With Caroline sleeping in the bedroom and Stefan on the couch, it was virtually impossible for her not to wake him up in the morning. She tried to sweeten the deal by bringing him a cup of coffee before heading out for the day to hunt and do whatever zombie maintenance was necessary. Never an early riser, he had come to appreciate those dawn moments where the two of them sat and chatted about mundane things like the weather. It felt cosy and domestic and peaceful. Since letting her in, he realised that behind her tough exterior, there was a kind-hearted girl and he wanted to know more. She was still a little skittish around him, her loaded pistol never leaving her side, but she smiled more, she laughed at his terrible jokes. Maybe she had realised hanging out with an idiot like him wasn't so bad.

Caroline had got lucky that morning, startling upon a group of deer. The carcass was heavy so she was glad not to have to drag it very far. Reaching the stream by the cabin planning to cool her hot, sweaty face, she got a second surprise of the morning - Stefan, naked as the day he was born, casually drying himself off, completely unaware that anyone might be watching. Open mouthed, she enjoyed the sight of his back muscles flexing as he moved. He had a hot back, a nice ass and his legs might have been a little skinny, but the overall package...

Caroline turned away embarrassed, only to step on a twig that snapped so loudly it caught Stefan's attention. He swung on his heel, his tiny towel barely covering his worldly goods. "Taking a good look, were you?" He grinned, that annoying cocky grin.

"No, I... I killed a deer and I was just wondering about venison recipes." Lame comeback, Caroline, she thought. He knows you were ogling.

"Yeah I think we should be able to make Bambi edible." He lightly scratched his chest, drawing Caroline's eyes downwards to his rock-hard abs.

"It's Bambi's mom." She quipped back, more daring than she felt. "I'll let you put some clothes on. It's obviously getting cold."

He snorted. In no rush, he went back to towelling himself dry. Caroline slipped into the cabin taking a moment to compose herself.

...

Stefan's ankle was finally good enough for a tour of the property perimeter. When Caroline had described the landscape, he had found it hard to understand how she kept the undead out. Once he saw it for himself, it all made a lot more sense. On one side was a large, fast flowing river that no man or beast could cross unaided, another boundary was a sheer rock face. The third was a dense wooded area, the only routes of access heavily booby trapped. The only weak spot was the one they were they were currently looking at.

"How do you go about building a huge electric fence powered by solar panels in the middle of nowhere?" He asked.

"My father had contacts in the prison service. It's not hard to find discrete contractors if you're prepared to pay them enough."

"How did he even know about this place?"

"He's been coming to this cabin since he was a child and when the owners put it up for sale in the 80s, he bought it. He's always been kind of paranoid about alien invasion or atomic bombs."

"Just because you're paranoid, don't mean they're not after you."

"What?"

"Nevermind."

Feeling like she was missing something, she decided to ignore him and get on with the day's work. Picking up her sharpened, wooden pike, she carefully slotted it through one of the holes in the fence and pierced the zombie's brain killing him finally. She then pushed him down and pulled back with all her might so he fell away from the fence. Stefan volunteered to dispatch the next two so there were now three dead zombies.

"So, what's next? Bury them? Burn them?"

"We leave them and the zombie wolves pick the bodies clean."

Stefan looked stricken. "Zombie wolves?"

"Yeah..."

"But Caroline, zombie wolves? Prowling around in the woods? That's so dangerous." His voice got louder, strained.

"They're slow and noisy, they're not a problem."

A protective instinct rose in Stefan. "You've been out there every day on your own. Risking your life, I can't let you do that."

"You can't let me? You. Can't. Let. Me? You're not my father and you're certainly not my husband. You don't get to tell me what to do."

"I didn't mean it like that... "

"I was married, I am married, all right?"

"It's really none of my business. Caroline? I'm just worried about you, okay? Hey, where are you going?"

"Hunting." A single word, he didn't dare argue, but he was already worried sick.

...

Stefan had spent most of the afternoon cleaning, pacing and cleaning some more, worried about Caroline's safety. He was ready for an earful, he just wanted to know she was okay. In desperation, he had rooted out an unopened bottle of Scotch, thrown a measure down his neck and poured himself another. Fortunately, he paused, placing the glass back on the little coffee table. He sat staring at the liquor knowing that if he continued, well he wouldn't stop and he didn't want to spiral into that madness. He continued to sit on the couch fretting until he passed out through emotional exhaustion.

Caroline knew she had overreacted again. Stefan seemed genuinely upset by the whole zombie wolf issue. Although they had lived through the same apocalypse, their experiences had been wildly different. He had had to deal with the urban zombie menace, living in close proximity to people he had bonded with and who had subsequently died. She had been all alone, dealing with wild animals. He was just starting to become aware of her situation and it had scared him, she understood that. Arriving back at the cabin, she saw him asleep on the couch, his legs too long to ever be comfortable. That hadn't stopped him from insisting he slept there despite his sprained ankle, ever the gentleman. Beside him, a bottle of her father's favourite whiskey, open, but largely untouched. She picked up the glass and downed it.

Stefan looked peaceful, so she didn't want to wake him, apologies could wait until the morning. Pulling a blanket over him so he didn't get cold, she turned to head for the bedroom, only to hear a quiet voice murmur "Caroline". The way he said her name, almost reverentially, stopped her in her tracks. The next thing she knew, he had crossed the room in two strides. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders pulling her in for a close hug. He buried his face in her hair, taking in a shaky breath. "I'm sorry." He whispered. "I'm so glad you're okay."

"I'm sorry too."

"So, you should be. You scared me half to death."

She couldn't see his face, but she knew the little smile he had on his face. She tightened her arms about his waist and he sighed contentedly. "I should explain."

"You don't have to." He brushed his fingers through her curls.

"I do." She reluctantly pulled away, dragging Stefan back to the couch and pouring two glasses of Scotch. "The wildlife here really isn't a problem. I've been running around these woods since I was tiny. I know this place like the back of my hand. My father always wanted a son, you see. Alaric, my husband, was something of a protégé to him, an old family friend. I didn't know him very well when we got married, the wedding was a whirlwind type thing. My dad was really happy. My mom told me not to rush these things, in retrospect she was right."

"So, things weren't all that rosy?"

"At first, they were. Ric was older, he made me feel safe and well I needed that." She glanced downwards, leaving Stefan with the impression she was hiding something. "But what I thought was protection was actually control and more I pushed back, the worse it got."

"So, where is he now?"

"We argued a few days before Boston fell. My father advised me to head out to the cabin, said he would follow, but that I should take Ric with me. When he said he wouldn't come, I had assumed that he was planning to stay and fight alongside the army." Stefan remembered the last-ditch attempts of the civilian militia, it had been a disaster. "Turns out he planned to head to Martha's Vineyard without me!"

"Fuck, that's rough." Stefan exclaimed. "Sorry about the language, but how could anyone abandon their wife especially one like you."

"That sounds like a compliment."

"It is, but hey, don't expect them too often." He winked at her. "Look, I wasn't trying to control you. I was just concerned. You're out there every day hunting bunnies for me while I doss around here doing a bit of cleaning and cooking. I meant that I couldn't let you risk your life for me, I'm not worth it. You saved my life, Caroline, literally. I'm not sure I'm ever going to be able to repay you for that."

"I'm going to put aside your misogynistic thoughts about cooking and cleaning for a second. Why the hell would you think you're not worth it, Stefan? You stayed when plenty fled, you carried on your civic duty even when you realised the whole thing was futile. My father did the same thing. He knew he would die in Washington, but he stayed. He's a hero and so are you. And as for saving your life, how well do you think I was doing out here mentally on my own?"

"I don't see any footballs with faces on them so..."

"My husband abandoned me. My parents are more than likely dead or worse. The last time had made contact with the outside world was three months ago via the radio. I was losing the plot, there's a good chance I would have fallen apart completely without you. You've seen how neurotic I can be. You saved me too, Stefan."

"So, we saved each other? We're quits? Then next time you go bunny hunting I'm coming with you. My ankle is pretty much healed and I want to learn."

"Okay then, but on one condition. We're friends, right?"

"Let's not push it."

"Seriously?"

"Alright, we're friends."

"Good. Because tonight you're sharing the bed with me."

"Er, no."

"I share beds with my friends all the time. You need to get a decent night's rest if you're going to keep up with me and you're way too tall for this damn couch. We can top and tail if it makes you feel better."

"No. There's no way I'm going anywhere near your feet." He shuddered. "But I can sleep on top of the covers?"

"That sounds fine. Come on, let's get some shut eye." With that she stood up, offering him her hand to pull himself up."

...

Caroline had always slept on her side curled up in the fetal position. Slowly coming to, her comforter felt warmer, heavier than usual and she started to bury herself back down into the bed hearing the pitter patter of rain against the window. Only her back hit a solid wall which shouldn't be there. Stefan's hand was resting on top of hers as he spooned her in his sleep. Not wanting to wake him, she tried to extricate herself from the situation, only for him to mumble something incoherent and pull her even closer, her bum landing right on his crotch and well, that was enough to have her jumping out of bed like a scolded cat.

A shirtless Stefan looked up at her dazed and confused, the sheet pushed down artfully around waist. His eyes swept appreciatively over her pyjama clad body taking in her shapely figure and her long legs. In retrospect, maybe the tiny shorts and vest had been a mistake. "I'm going to make coffee." She blurted out, trying to pull on an ugly old cardigan and getting herself into a tangled-up mess.

Caroline was flustered, cheeks aflame with embarrassment and it was just the most adorable thing Stefan had ever seen. "It looks like the rain's going to put a crimp in our bunny hunting plans. I'll make the coffee this morning. You relax."

"You'll do anything not to show what a terrible shot you are." She bantered, glad of her chance to recover.

"You wish." He returned, ducking into the kitchen.

Caroline got back onto the bed, propping herself up against the headboard and picked up a book. She couldn't remember the last time she had spent a whole day relaxing. This would be nice.

When Stefan returned with the coffee, he paused at the doorway just to look at her. Her hair was like a halo around her head, she was chewing on her lip and her nose was screwed up, probably reading a particularly enthralling passage in her book. She looked the picture of sweetness. As much as Stefan liked her badass self and enjoyed the verbal sparring, this softer side stirred something deep within him, the need to make sure no one hurt her ever again. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and... Don't go there, he warned himself.

Never the less, he offered up the coffee and climbed onto the bed beside her.

"What do you want to do today?" He asked.

"I can think of one thing." She arched her eyebrow suggestively.

"What?"

She pointed at his hair. "I got new batteries for the clippers."

"Maybe." He smiled.

...

After exhausting books and board games, Caroline had persuaded a still reluctant Stefan to let her cut his hair. They had spent a whole day enjoying each other's company, talking about their former lives, about his brother, Damon and their tough upbringing, about her sheltered, privileged yet lonely childhood. They had laughed a lot, cried a little, but the general cabin mood was upbeat.

Caroline gently raked her fingers through his hair which was surprisingly soft, if a little knotty. She picked up the clippers suddenly doubtful - what happened if she made a complete hash of this?

Stefan, as if sensing her hesitation, pulled out his best reassuring smile. "A short back and sides isn't too hard to pull off. Here." He offered up an attachment. "Use this one first all over. I trust you, Caroline."

She clipped the part into place, giving his hair a final run through with her fingers. She swore she heard him purr. This was it, she crossed her fingers and hoped for the best.

...

Stefan had decided that once Caroline had dealt with his hair, he needed to shave properly. He warmed some water and set himself up by the fire where the light was best now dusk was setting in. Caroline, who had been rummaging around in the bedroom, reappeared wearing a cute flowery blouse he hadn't seen before, just as he was towelling off the last bit of soap.

"Wow." She exclaimed.

"I can't look that different. Anyway, I know you've seen photos of me before."

"I know, but you're much hotter in person." Her eyes widened and her cheeks reddened.

He didn't say a thing, just smiled.

"Hey. You missed a bit. I'll just sort it out." She sat down opposite him, taking his chin lightly in one hand and the razor in the other. His hands fell unthinkingly on her thighs as she gently whisked away the last few hairs. His green eyes were fixed on her, dark in the firelight, drinking her in and she felt the urge to lean forward and kiss him. She looked down, breaking the tension.

"I have something cool, I found in the back of the closet. You go tidy up and I'll get it set up."

"Intriguing stuff, Miss. Forbes." He stopped and looked hesitant.

"That's fine, Stefan. I really don't think of myself as being married anymore. I just thought you should know about it."

"Okay then." He replied.

The surprise turned out to be a stack of old records and a wind-up record player from the 1920s which had apparently been in the Forbes family since it was bought new. The sound it produced was scratchy and crackly, but the two of them danced to some of the racy Charlestons that were fashionable then. Stefan picked out the next song which had a much slower tempo. "May I?" He asked shyly, offering her his hand.

She nodded and allowed herself to be led in the dance. Stefan, for a man who protested a lot about 'not dancing', was light on his feet. She leant her head on his shoulder, casually running her fingers through the now blunt hairs on the back of his neck.

"Admiring your handy work?" He murmured.

"Don't think I did too badly for a first attempt." She whispered back, lifting her head to look at him.

He looked like he had his eyes closed, but the corner of his lips turned minutely upwards and she knew he was looking at her. He lifted his hand to her cheek, gently caressing it with his thumb. They stopped moving, staring into each other eyes. Then he leant forward, brushing his lips against hers, before pulling away, seeking her permission to continue. This time, it was Caroline who leant in, her lips gently moving over his, inviting him in. He didn't hesitate.

The fire crackled, bathing the couple in warmth and light. The rest of the world, all the death and destruction, fading away as they grasped the moment with both hands.

...

 **AN: Sorry this is meandering and slow, but they got there in the end. Thanks for reading!**


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